


What The...?

by helena_s_renn, Helenas_bitch, orphan_account



Series: WTF? [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Sam Winchester, Genderfuck, Genderswap, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Other, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:02:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helena_s_renn/pseuds/helena_s_renn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helenas_bitch/pseuds/Helenas_bitch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wakes up and isn't quite <em>him</em>self.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What The...?

_Life was unfair,_ Sam thought when he woke up in the middle of the night. Next to him, in the other bed, Dean was snoring lightly. It wasn't the sound that had woken him, though; his full bladder had. He felt tempted to give the bed a good kick so that Dean would wake up, too. His brother had had three more beers than he, so why was Sam close to bursting and Dean wasn't? Then again, it wasn't Dean's fault. Also, Dean wouldn't appreciate being woken up. Between the two of them, Sam was the early bird, and although Dean was a light sleeper, he tended to wake up mean, in particular if there wasn't a good reason to get up.

Sam sighed as he got out of bed. It was cold in the room. The dryer in the motel's laundry facility was broken, and his shirts were still damp, which was why he was only wearing sleep pants. He felt slightly disoriented as he made his way through the darkness to the small bathroom. Closing the door so as to not disturb Dean, he cursed when he flipped the light switch and nothing happened. Perfect, just what he needed, a broken bulb. Well, Dean would give him shit for peeing sitting down, but since he wouldn't know about it...

Grinning as he pushed his pants down and sat on the toilet, Sam wondered why the air on his butt felt so strange. It was cold, but... He reached for his dick – and froze when he found... nothing. 

His first thought was blind panic, the second was that he must be dreaming. Okay, if this was a dream, he might as well return to bed, wait until he woke up, and _then_ go take care of his bladder. Maybe the bathroom light would work then, too...

Sam left the small room and tried to find back to his bed. About half-way there, he stubbed his toe against something. Trying to evade the object, whatever it was, he bumped into the table he only now remembered in roughly this position, and was rewarded with lots of clutter falling from it. He suppressed a curse at his throbbing toe and hoped that Dean hadn't woken from the noise.

His hope had been in vain. 

"Sammy, what the..."

Dean's voice sounded annoyed. It turned to shocked when he switched on the light.

 _"Sammy, what the..."_

Dean gawped at him and Sam almost fainted when the light fell on his chest – sporting two perfect female breasts.

* * *

Sam was up fumbling around again in the dark, and nothing much pissed off Dean more than being woken unnecessarily. You'd think that after all these years, the brainiac would think to memorize the floor plan before conking out. But no, Sam was one of those lucky people who, once they were out, slept like a log every night (or day, depending), whereas lack of decent sleep was just a fact of Dean's life. 

Damn his brother! He tripped over something, jostling Dean's bed. There was no chance of going back to sleep for hours now. The last wisps of a dream about some chick he was dogging melted away. Might as well prevent any more of this nonsense. 

The sight that greeted him when he switched on the lamp on the bedside table left him stunned. Sam, in his sleep pants, shirtless, and... with tits! And not just any, he had a really nice rack. "Sammy, what the fuck?!" he burst out, staring. Dean could feel his eyes bugging out. Without meaning to, he scooted back till his spine hit the headboard. 

There were other differences. Sam was as tall as ever – talk about an Amazon! – but less muscled. His, uh, _her_ shoulders were broad for a woman but not a guy, her waist was definitely female, and her hips...! Also, no trace of Sam's – boy Sam's – package at all. No facial hair, no chest hair (thank god!), and Dean would swear her lips were fuller, maybe like the real Sam's as a teenager. 

How the hell had this happened? He could think of about a thousand sarcastic queries but for now... "What, did you wake up like that? Did somebody curse you? Holy shit, Sam. We gotta get you back to normal!" 

Apparently girl-Sam was shyer than regular-Sam. Her face turned flaming red and she crossed her long arms over her chest. "Oh come on," Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a _girl!"_

* * *

When Dean stared at him, Sam thought he could detect not only utter bewilderment in his brother's eyes but also – lust. But that was probably just paranoia on his side. Maybe it was normal, he wouldn't know; after all, how many guys found themselves waking up and suddenly being girls? Still, Dean looking him over made Sam uncomfortable and he crossed his arms over his chest awkwardly. It got him a, _"Don't be such a girl!"_

Close to breaking into hysterical giggles, Sam focused on the questions and comments Dean had made before.

"I woke up like that. I don't know that I've been cursed," he counted off his fingers. "Holy shit indeed, and yeah, back to normal..."

Sam's stomach made a sudden flip as he only now realized that his might be more than a temporary condition. "Gonna be sick," he pressed out as he stumbled to the bathroom.

A few miserable minutes later, he rinsed his mouth. He'd left the bathroom door open so he could see, although he knew that Dean wouldn't be impressed with having to listen to his pitiful retching. Not sure he wanted to deal with his testy brother right now, Sam decided he might as well take a leak. It was another thing he wasn't looking forward to. There was a reason why people said that beer leaving the body was even nicer than it was entering the body, but he'd never heard it applied to women. Well – or not so well – he'd find out.

For one thing, already sitting down on the toilet felt more wrong now. Apparently, whoever or whatever had transformed him into a female had also – thankfully – given him the ability to control his new body. Sam sighed with relief as his bladder emptied. It was extremely disconcerting, though, not at all how it should feel. And then, when he was finished, what was he supposed to do? A guy would shake off the droplets, but a woman? He'd never watched Jess in the bathroom – they hadn't been that kind of close – so he had no idea. Toilet paper, he thought, grabbing a handful. After wiping and fumbling around for some time, he hoped that he'd managed to clean himself up well enough not to leave embarrassing stains in his pants. 

This would need some getting used to – or better not: Sam's mind balked at the thought of remaining in this body for even another minute. On the verge of freaking out, he knew he needed to calm his nerves, and he knew where to find help. Before he returned to their bedroom, however, there was something else to take care of. Sam took a shirt off the shower rack where he'd hung their laundry to dry. It was still damp, but he'd rather die of pneumonia than expose his... _tits_... any longer.

After pulling the shirt over his chest, he strode straight to Dean's duffle, where he knew his brother kept his emergency stash. If Dean assumed that Sam wasn't aware of it, well, fuck him. Desperate times required desperate measures.

He took four long swigs, then gasped for breath, as he wasn't used to chugging it down like this. Narrowing his eyes and hoping to look dangerous enough to make Dean refrain from additional comments, he held out the bottle to his brother.

* * *

While Sam turned green over his predicament and ran back to the bathroom to throw up his guts, Dean tried to think of any lore or legends he'd heard about an overnight sex change. A shapeshifter could take any form, but that was a creature. No one knew much about angels or their powers. It was possible that a very powerful witch or warlock could manage this. The sounds in the bathroom had changed from retching to pissing. Huh. Well, bodily functions must be the same, more or less. 

Dean began a cursory search for hex bags or other signs of spellcraft, but he needed to talk to his brother first. Or wait, was Sam his sister now? Or, still his brother because even with a female body, Sam was born male and that's what he was...? It was too confusing. 

Sam marched out of the bathroom, those fine-ass tits bouncing, but under a damp shirt now. Too bad. It had been a nice view. Whatever deeply-buried, secret fantasies Dean had about his brother, a nice pair of breasts never failed to pique his interest. Sam was rooting in Dean's duffle, unbidden. He – she – found the hidden bottle they both knew about, and chugged a healthy measure. 

Now that Sam was a girl, Dean didn't know how to begin to talk to her. All of his experiences with women, besides those he interviewed as a fake Federal agent or those old enough to be his mother, involved a certain amount of flirty bullshit. He couldn't just start hitting on her. Girl-Sam was definitely attractive, although she still had three inches on Dean which was just weird. He said the first thing that came to mind. "So, uh... What are things like downstairs?" He dipped his eyes pointedly to Sam's crotch. 

* * *

Sam broke into a furious blush. When he felt the heat rise in his cheeks, he wondered if this sudden and unwelcome reaction was also a girly thing.

"Things _downstairs_ are just fine," he snapped. It was the last thing he wanted to think about – _thank you so much for reminding me, Dean!_

Since Dean didn't take the bottle from his hand, Sam drank some more. Maybe if he got enough JD inside him, he'd come up with the courage to actually find out what was left in his pants. A cowardly part of him considered asking Dean for help, but that was just too bizarre, even for his current situation.

He slumped down on his bed and buried his head in his hands. Rubbing his face made him frown: there should have been stubble on his chin by now. Hey, maybe there was something good in this mess, after all, no more shaving for him! And hadn't Dean insisted on calling him 'Samantha' before? 

His brother was still staring at him, and again Sam got the distinct impression that Dean was giving him the same look he usually reserved for busty blondes. He noticed with trepidation that the intense scrutiny caused the weirdest feelings in his belly.

_Oh no, please, he couldn't be getting aroused, could he? From his fucking brother making bedroom eyes at him?_

"Dean, what the fuck is going on here?"

* * *

"What's going on? You tell me. You're the one who woke up with a pussy. Or so I assume." Dean waggled his eyebrows. "Is it shaved?"

Ha. Sam was blushing. And drinking. Like a fish. Dean swiped the bottle before Sam drained it. He'd always been a lightweight, and Dean was willing to bet _she_ was worse. But then, having a hot drunk girl in his room might not be such a bad thing. His dick didn't think so either. Hey, wait. That was just wrong. Damn, this could get awkward. 

And Sam didn't want to talk about it. He was all huffy. But that only made Dean more willing to mess with him. "Do you think you can get pregnant?" he asked, scratching his balls through his boxers. He knew very well that his Neanderthal factor was going through the roof, since besides the ball sweat he could barely take his eyes off _her_ rack, but oh well. Sam knew him. 

Dean tipped the bottle back. "Ah, nothing like liquid breakfast!" he quipped after a healthy slug. "I have no idea. I'll keep looking for hex bags, you get that curvy ass online, huh? Or, you could show me..." He twirled his finger in the air, the indication being that Sam should strip and show off the new hot bod. He wasn't so sure how he felt. Seated on the ground, girl-Sam wasn't towering over him. Normally he'd be all over someone as good looking as... With those high cheekbones in a triangular face and fuck-me eyes and... Crap. Boner.

* * *

Fuck Dean! Sam knew that this was his sibling's way of dealing with nasty surprises, but he really wished that for once Dean would at least pretend to be sensitive. Dean's stupid questions surely didn't make this any easier.

He narrowed his eyes and addressed Dean with what his brother liked to call his 'bitchface'.

"Is my pussy shaved? Can I get pregnant? You wanna see my curvy ass, huh?" Sam snarled, feeling more heat rising in his cheeks. The situation and the alcohol were getting to him, but Dean's remarks really made the cup run over.

"All right, I'll show you," Sam yelled. He got up on slightly unsteady feet and pushed his pants down, almost tripping on a leg. Tearing at the damp shirt, he pulled it off over his head and threw it on his bed. 

"So? Like what you see?" Stark naked, Sam put his hands on his hips and looked at his brother with a dangerous smile on his lips. 

* * *

Sam yelled his questions back at him, clearly pissed off to the point of fratricide. Dean sat down on the bed he'd slept in and leaned forward, elbows on knees. In a surprising move, Sammy threw the bitchface, which was even more 'bitch' on a girl, and then, threw off pants and shirt. Dean's eyebrows peaked far up his forehead at the forthright display. It was a deliberate show, he was sure. He nearly came on his pants over the sight of this lithe, perfectly-formed female. 

Okay, she wasn't shaved but it wasn't 70's bush so that was cool. And she was so like boy-Sam – long and lean, tanned, subtle musculature instead of the familiar hard bulk. Sam turned slightly, giving Dean a glimpse of a tight little ass that would put a Victoria's Secret model to shame. "Jesus Christ on a cracker," he muttered. Sam smelled like a woman, too, pheromones wafting past his nose till he was panting and dribbling like some bull elephant in musth. "Sam, how the hell are we supposed to work? I just wanna... Wanna... Well, you know." 

Dean blinked. Had he really just outright propositioned his... Whatever? "I'm sorry, Sam. Natural, unnatural, reaction." All of the people he'd had full-on sex with had been women. So it was natural, wasn't it? "Put your clothes on. I'll try to contain myself." Hopefully Sam would look away so that Dean could slink off to the bathroom and take care of his not-so-little problem. Maybe he would be able to think clearly, afterwards, for at least ten minutes.

* * *

Okay, this was getting seriously creepy. Sam thought he was used to seeing Dean drooling over hot women, but he'd never had that look directed at himself before. Or at least, not that he'd noticed. Sam, on the other hand, had secretly admired his brother's body more than once, sometimes even wishing he were a woman so he and Dean could actually... And now Dean had as much as admitted that he, too, wanted... Sam squashed the thought down as hard as he could. Still, he felt again the utterly disconcerting warmth between his thighs, right where his dick should be. A natural, unnatural reaction indeed.

Sam didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed when Dean told him to get dressed. Deciding to resort to their usual ribbing in order to try and establish some kind of normality, he snorted. "You'll try to contain yourself, huh? I hadn't heard that term before, but I sure know what you mean. I hope you can pull it off in the dark, though: the bathroom lights don't work," he explained with clear irritation in his voice. 

It wasn't that he didn't want to listen in. Dean's happy noises when he got off were the best and hottest stimulation he'd ever have, but Sam knew that he himself had no hopes of finding relief. The thought of touching the void in his groin scared him like not much had scared him before in his life.

* * *

Fuck. This just kept getting worse. Sam actually sounded pissed at him for not jumping his – her – bones. What he'd said wasn't a euphemism for jerking off that he'd ever heard of, but Sam was definitely on to him. 'Pull off' was exactly what he intended. He was not about to walk across the room at full staff, and that had nothing to do with shyness. Men don't watch porn together, and they don't go waving their erections around deliberately. Just wasn't done. Never mind the... Tits... Dean's brain had to be cramping or something. 

"I... I... Thank you very much, I don't need the light for that, just my hand." Letting a look twist across his face, one that Sam should be able to read as to who taught who to use their hand, Dean made no move to get up. He was curious about something else. "So, uh... I admitted to you that you're making me hard. What about you? Anything? What's it feel like?" If this Sammy was a lesbian, Dean might have to shoot himself. 

* * *

Shit. Had Dean actually noticed that Sam was getting... _wet?_ Sometimes, he could have sworn that Dean recognized which women were willing to be bedded by their scent. What if he could smell Sam's – _need?_

Then, Dean had openly admitted that he found Sam's body exciting. What was Sam supposed to do? He couldn't lie outright to his brother, but he couldn't tell him he desired him either, could he? Inside, Sam was a man, after all. Or was he? He frowned as his mind wandered back to his earlier thought. If he were a woman, he was allowed – hell, according to Dean's ego, as a woman he was fucking _entitled_ – to want Dean.

The easy way out was, of course, to claim that he needed to figure out what he felt since all of this was so weird and new. However, suddenly, he wasn't sure if he wanted an out any longer. The idea of having sex – _real_ sex, not only jerking each other off as they'd done as teenagers – with Dean made him shiver. He swallowed. 

"I... not sure. It... feels... good, I guess..." Sam took a deep breath, hoping he wasn't making a capital mistake here. "Being... wanted by you, I mean. Feels good..."

Suddenly, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out, "Do you have a condom?"

* * *

Sam seemed to be having the same trouble that Dean himself was in knowing how to express himself in this situation. After stating several times that it felt good, _she_ seemed to be at a loss. Dean was about to ask for more specific information when Sam blurted, "Do you have a condom?" A sweet, hot dive of pure arousal hit Dean in the lower belly. He was definitely throbbing now. The idea that Sam would want him, like this, turned him on to no end. 

A slow smile curved Dean's lips. "Of course I do. Safety first." Sam hadn't said if Dean should actually use the condom if he had one, but that was the inference. "So, uh... You really want to...?" Because if so, Sam was in for the royal treatment, he decided. Dean wanted to, was practically shaking to, get his hands all over that body, to kiss Sam and love him and make him feel so good, and tell him every fucking thing that came to mind... And... _her_. Do all that for _her_. "'Cuz I'd love it. And you know you would." Okay, cheesy, but he still needed to hear 'yes'. He licked his lips, already fighting for air. 

* * *

"Well, since you say I know I'd love it, why do you even have to ask?" Sam flashed Dean an insecure grin. Yes, he wanted this. He might not be able to read his new body accurately, but there was no doubt as to what it was telling him in the 'downstairs' department: not only did he want this, he fucking _needed_ it!

Still, it was all so wrong, starting with being a woman and desiring his own brother... Weird didn't begin to describe it. Usually, Dean was the one acting on his body's impulses while Sam considered himself the thinker, and now his physical need was counterweighted by an intellectual need to rationalize things.

Sam hated himself for this. He'd always admired, even envied, Dean's easy and confident sexuality. Yes, he desired his brother, had done so all his life, and the memories from their teenage years when Dean had helped him discover his body were still the essence of Sam's masturbatory imagery. 

On a regular base, Dean kept suggesting that Sam needed to get laid. Of course, Dean was clueless that the only person Sam wanted to get laid by was his older brother. But maybe Sam would be more at ease with the thought of bedding a girl if he had more experience. Dean had set him up with that hooker all these years ago, although... And Jess... No, Sam really couldn't lay claim to being a skilled lover, but this was his one chance to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end. Part of him knew that this was a lot of bull, but if it served to shut his thinking off...

Still naked, Sam took a step closer to Dean, determination in his eyes.

"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely. "I really want to."

* * *

"Oh, god... Get over here," Dean groaned. "Sammy..." Moving back in the bed, he gestured. Reclining back, he kept his boxers on, because most girls either wanted to go slow or to undress him themselves. But he was already leaking and there was a small dark spot spreading. He'd kicked his jeans off somewhere between the two beds, the night before, and he flipped over and fumbled for his wallet, where there was a condom packet or two. 

That found, he lay back again. "Please, man... I mean, Sam." He grinned sheepishly. "C'mon, lay down with me." Dean's pulse pounded rapidly in his ears. He held out his hand toward Sam, who still hadn't moved. The other swallowed like he was nervous, eyes dilated. "Don't be scared. I promise, you'll like it – I know what I'm doing." 

Sam had at least stopped trying to cover her body with her hands. All that skin, miles of it, just waiting for his touch. Dean knew she wanted it, could smell wet arousal, different notes from his. Her body would take him in, easy and slick on its own, and he would do everything to please her. And it would still be his Sam, looking up at him. Dean's eyes were starting to water from need. "Want you so much," he choked out hoarsely. 

* * *

_"I promise, you'll like it – I know what I'm doing."_

For the first time since he'd woken up, Sam relaxed enough to laugh. Even in this situation, Dean managed to come across cock-sure as always. "I'm sure you do," he said with a wink. Leave it to Dean to figure out if this was his reply to 'I know what I'm doing' or 'Want you so much.'

Still, Sam was nervous when he settled on the bed next to his brother. He smiled at Dean then cast his eyes down almost shyly as he moved closer. He could feel the heat emanating from Dean's skin where their thighs touched, and it made his heart beat faster. His nostrils widened as Dean's scent hit them, the male sweat and testosterone so familiar and yet so exciting. It had always had this effect on Sam, but Dean had rarely let him be so close that he could catch even a whiff of it. Now, he inhaled the musky aroma deeply and let out a small moan of arousal.

"I want you, too, Dean," he said as he leaned even closer. "Unlike you, however, I have no idea how to do this." Dean's lips had never looked more sensual. Sam couldn't wait to feel them on his, but he needed his brother to make the first move. Dean's face was only two inches from Sam's and their eyes met. "I don't know what I'm doing, but I trust you." 

* * *

_I trust you._ That was close enough. If Sam couldn't figure out this girl's body, well, Dean was happy to help. Sam looked receptive, eyes sparking, lips parted and pink spots high on his cheekbones, if holding back for Dean to make the first move. Only a small gap separated them; Dean leaned forward and closed it. 

Like most everything he did, Dean went into the kiss forthright, slanting his lips over Sam's firmly. The thinner pink lips were slightly moist, a perfect match, especially when Sam moved into it and pressed back. Dean pulled his girl-brother's naked body against his, one arm around his back, relishing the heated, soft skin. His heart beat frantically in his chest, and he opened his mouth a little, sliding his tongue past Sam's lips and teeth, playing against the insides of his palate. 

It was probably a male thing – he had to resist the impulse to crush Sam in his arms. Dean tightened his grip and leaned far to the side, so that they lay facing. Instinct took over, his lower body pushing forward, seeking the heat between Sam's legs. Dean nudged his knee between Sam's, kissing him again, licking, teasing his tongue. 

It wasn't just what Dean was doing, but that Sam was going along with him, touching his body with long fingers, that made everything else fade into nothingness around their bed. He hadn't even touched Sam's breasts yet but now he did, taking one in each hand. "These are perfect," Dean breathed. He squeezed a little, not too hard, as he'd learned over the years, thumbing the nipples into hard nubs. His own nipples tightened in response. He wiggled down the bed slightly and sucked one red tip into his mouth, then the other, delighted to hear a moan. "Delicious..."

* * *

The moment Dean's lips touched his Sam knew he was lost. It felt as if he was being kissed for the first time for real in his life. Dean didn't hesitate. He moved in and took possession, and Sam was more than willing to let himself fall into the sensation, to hand over the reins to his brother. There was no doubt that Dean knew exactly what he was doing – and that he was very good at it.

When Dean pulled him closer, with their upper bodies against each other, Sam could feel both their hearts beating excitedly. Dean's firm chest provided just the right amount of gentle pressure for the soft cushion that Sam was now beginning to experience were his breasts. Only a moment ago, he'd thought they were nothing but a nuisance, but now he found that there was much more to them. 

Dean continued to kiss him, and Sam responded, opened his mouth, gasping, when Dean's tongue slid deeper, tasting, playing, exploring. Then, Dean pushed his knee between Sam's legs. Surprised, Sam struggled a little before Dean distracted him with his tongue teasing Sam's. When he forced himself to relax and accept his brother's leg in this intimate position, he felt a wave of pleasure running through his body as Dean rubbed his thigh against Sam's mound for a second.

At the same time, Dean's hands cupped Sam's breasts, kneading them softly. Sam shuddered as Dean declared them perfect. Strong and yet incredibly deft fingers and thumbs teased his nipples and they tightened into hard buds. Sam groaned. Already as a man he'd always loved to have his nipples played with, but this was...

His head fell back and he moaned louder when Dean began to suck on the already highly-sensitized peaks, flashes of pleasure spreading from his nipples right to his groin. What would Dean's mouth feel on him down there... It suddenly hit him that he no longer had a dick, but even this shocking thought was drowned out by the joy Dean brought him.

Moving down to lick at Sam's chest, Dean's thigh was no longer resting against Sam's – _clit?_ – and he moaned at the loss, desperate for friction. So, this was similar to being a man, then, the frantic need to rub against something...

"Gods, Dean," he gasped. "Feels so fucking good!"

* * *

There was something hesitant about Sam. Given the situation, it wasn't rocket science that Sam had nothing but instinct and immediate sensation to go on. Dean palmed the lush globes of those female breasts a few minutes longer. He was more an ass and leg man, but these were _Sammy's_ , and what he was doing was obviously good for them both. 

But his hips were restless, moving in search of more than just grinding against one of Sam's long smooth legs. It occurred to him that those were shaved, as were her armpits, and it made sense, as Sam as a man shaved his face every morning, and went in for lotion and facial scrubs and such when they weren't broke as hell or filthy from some job. Dean needed to see, touch, all of him... Her. Or maybe it could wait till after this overwhelming heat rush met satisfaction. It wasn't lost on him that Sam was working her hips as well, and Dean's thigh was slick with her juices. 

"You're wet for me," Dean whispered, glancing up. "Wanna taste you." Slithering down again, he left a trail of kisses down her flat stomach. She didn't have the hard six-pack of his brother, yet there was enough tone under the curves that she shivered when he reached her navel, tonguing the rim of it, so that he had to lay an arm across her waist to hold her still. 

Dean urged her on to her back, not sure what Sam would think of that, and pushed her thighs apart wider to accommodate his torso. His hands fit perfectly around her hips. They were rounded, and if this Sam had any extra padding it was there, unlike the whipcord bony pelvis of his brother, and Dean did love the feel of them. So did Sam, if the moans what Dean was doing with his mouth were drawing were any say-so. Instead of the thin treasure trail, there was only thin naked skin further down, and the curls he'd noticed first thing. Dean kept going, dragging his lips with every little kiss. 

There was no way he couldn't have noticed the scent that turned his brain to mush. It was Sam, but tangier, acidic almost, and just _wet_ , god, so fucking ready for him. Her body was, anyway. Dean drew his knees under himself or he'd have been humping the bed. Looking up, he caught Sam's eyes, dark and pupils blown wide with need. "I'm going down on you now, 'kay? You need to know what that feels like... You want that?" 

* * *

Oh god, Dean's hands and lips were burning him! Sam had had no idea that being a woman could be so – ecstatic! Or maybe it was because Dean was the man making love to him. Whatever, Sam's brain couldn't string a sentence together, much less think coherently. Had he ever been so aroused before? And Dean hadn't even touched him – down there.

Sam was already shaking with need from the gentle, then slightly firmer sucking and caressing of his breasts. Then, Dean announced that he wanted to taste him! Sam felt that he almost had a heart attack, and judging from the sounds he was making, Dean wasn't faring much better. Or worse. Or whatever; his higher brain functions had melted long ago.

When Dean had him lie on his back and nudged his thighs apart, Sam knew that he was in heaven. He wanted all of Dean, now. He couldn't wait to feel his brother inside his body, both of them quivering with need. At the same time, he hoped they could draw this out forever, despite the incredibly strong urge for release. Sam moaned and writhed with every kiss, nip, and lick Dean gifted him with.

Finally, Dean reached his mound and looked up at Sam with hungry eyes. 

_"I'm going down on you now, 'kay? You need to know what that feels like... You want that?"_

A surge of heat spread from where his dick should be, only it felt more dense, more concentrated than he remembered from having a cock. Something down there was pulsing, violently, and he strained his hips to get this spot closer to his brother's mouth.

"God, Dean," he cried out. "Yes, please. Please do it. Touch me. Lick me... Gods, I need you so much..."

* * *

Dean shuddered again as Sam begged him to keep going. "Oh yeah, damn right, Sam... Gonna..." He dragged his mouth downwards, resting his chest on the mattress and sliding his arms under Sam's thighs for better access, forcing them wide. Not that Sam needed his help, the tendons were taut from stretching and arching of her own accord. 

Blinking, Dean separated the outer lips of Sam's pussy... "Lick you, baby..." Dean groaned. He went to it with relish, licking at one side then the other, inward to the thinner surfaces. "Now..." He muttered, using just his forefinger to penetrate her. Sam as a boy wasn't a virgin, but Dean didn't know how much the female body coordinated to the man's. Her cunt, slick as any lube he'd ever used, sucked his finger in, so Dean added the next, lips seeking her clit. There, near the top of her slit, it was standing up like a tiny erection and hard as bone. Looking into Sam's eyes over _her_ long torso, Dean panted till he got a good breath, sucked down across the reddened folds and flash-flicked his tongue across the nub. 

If he thought Sam was responsive when Dean touched his dick, jerked him off back in their errant youth, that was nothing. Here was a full-grown woman, and she bucked hard enough Dean had to yank his head back to avoid a broken nose. "Like it, huh? Try to 'contain yourself'," he parroted from earlier. "Want you to cum on my tongue..." Dean lowered his head. Again he fastened his swollen lips around Sam's clit, licking across it, then licking in the other direction, then around, whatever he could to get the best moans and movements. The miniature shaft of it extended a fraction and he sucked it, batting the very tip with his tongue. At the same time, he began to fuck her with his fingers, gently at first then harder as Sam slammed back at him. 

* * *

"Dean, Dean, oh yess..." Sam was reduced to an incoherent, moaning bundle as soon as these magic fingers went to work. In him, and at first Sam didn't now if he liked it. It felt... _weird_. And then the tongue! Sam had no idea what Dean was doing to him, but it was the best he'd ever felt. Not even Dean working his dick with his hand could compete with this!

"Nnnhhhh," he shuddered hard, then bucked as Dean hit a particularly responsive spot, whining with disappointment when the incredible feeling stopped. Sam vaguely registered something about 'containing himself', but he couldn't figure out what it was supposed to... Oh, Dean's nose had gotten in the way, right...

Dean said something else, and as the meaning of it slowly trickled into Sam's fried brain, he gasped. _"Want you to cum on my tongue..."_

"I will," he panted, clenching his abdominal muscles as this seemed to heighten the pleasure, moaning wantonly.

Then Dean began to lick him in earnest. Sam thrashed his head, his moans no longer single utterances but a continuous wailing. Dean's finger – or was it fingers? – touched something inside him and he cried out. He unclamped his hands from the sheet, needing to feel Dean, and laid them on his brother's head, unintentionally pressing Dean against his body as the incredible sensations made him stiffen.

Sam's breath came in shuddering gasps over his moans and grunts. The tension in his groin spread to his belly, on and on it went, taking him higher and higher until he thought he'd die from pleasure.

Something tightened in him, just where Dean's fingers were stroking him. Then, Dean sucked down on him hard, and Sam's body and mind turned into fireworks. He convulsed and screamed as he fell over the edge into the most intense and fulfilling climax he'd ever experienced.

"Oh god, Dean, I love you!"

* * *

Sam was a screamer. The entire row of motel rooms could probably hear the wails of ecstasy but Dean couldn't have cared less. He just kept licking, kept finger-fucking his sibling's cunt, holding his breath when Sam shoved his face down hard and rode it from below. Inside, the slippery walls gripped and began to spasm; under Dean's tongue, her clit jerked in the same rhythm. He needed friction so badly he nearly broke down, but no, this was for Sam. Allowing only the very tip of his cock to touch down onto the sheet and glide a bare couple of inches, Dean sucked hard and whipped his tongue around the spit-slick little nodule. 

If he'd been in boy form, Dean would have just got a mouthful or faceful of cream. This was familiar, the heaving and pulsating, and he knew, just knew when Sam finally let it go. A rush of sweet slick gushed down his hand. Sam yelled out his love, words to the incredible feeling. Women had told Dean that before, when they got off on him, but this was different, deeper. He believed it. "Dammit, Sammy," he groaned, gasping for breath, "Love you, too."

Everything in him rose up. He needed it now, needed to be in her. "Can't wait any more!" Dean crawled up Sam's sweaty body, skin to skin. For once, he felt bigger than his brother, maybe not taller but more substantial, and it kicked up his rush. The hard-on between his legs ached from lack of attention, damp from his trickles of pre-cum. In seconds, he was lying on top of his brother, reaching for the condom. "Just need to..." He opened the packet and rolled it on himself. Sam looked wrecked, sort of amazed, and stoned as hell, and Dean reflected it looked beautiful on her. So it had always been. 

"Now..." He gave that warning only. Leading with his dick, with his hips, Dean thrust forward slowly. "Ah, ah! So frigging hot down there." The very tip of him nudged Sam's entrance, a lot tighter to a fully erect cock, and Dean knew he wasn't small, than to his fingers. She gripped every inch of him as he slid home, gritting his teeth to keep control. "You know I wanna... fuck you. Sammy, gotta give you this..." It was like she was still cumming, her pussy clenched around him, and Dean coiled back. Sam stared into his eyes, and he stared back. "Unngh!" Dean thrust in. Hard. He was gone – the sex took over.

* * *

"Unnnhh..." Sam kept moaning with every surge of his release, lost in the new and incredibly deep feelings that shook his body and soul to the very core. He loved Dean. And he loved what his brother was doing to him, for him. "Oh god, Dean..."

Then Dean was on top of him, fumbling around – condom? – telling him he couldn't wait any more. Sam was still out of it, but something was niggling his mind. Something important.

_"Now..."_

The look on Dean's face was fierce, his eyes wide, and his mouth open with strings of saliva – no, these must be his, Sam's juices – on his lips. Dean's cock nudged his entrance, and suddenly Sam knew what his mind was trying to tell him.

_He was a virgin!_

"Dean, no, wait...!" Sam just needed a few seconds to wrap his head around this disturbing idea but Dean's body wouldn't be denied any longer. He slammed home with a hard thrust. A sharp pain ripped through Sam and he tensed for a moment before the look of rapture on his brother's face took his mind off any thought.

Sam shuddered as Dean hit the spot inside him that he'd already found earlier with his fingers. The sensation was stronger now, and he clenched involuntarily. Dean pulled out and they looked at each other, Sam staring with disbelief at the heat in his sibling's eyes, the need, the want, the clenched teeth. Dean was totally gone – and he was pulling Sam along with him.

The sounds Dean was making! They alone made Sam feel dizzy. When Dean told him, "You know I wanna... fuck you. Sammy, gotta give you this...", Sam thought he'd melt with bliss. 

"Yeah," he groaned, his voice hoarse from his noisy release only a minute ago, "Fuck me. Give me all you have. Give yourself to me..."

* * *

Belatedly, Dean realized Sam had tried to stop him, but it was too late now. He was in as deep as he could go, sac pressed to her sopping girl parts. He nuzzled into her cleavage, kissed there, letting his body roll and bump. "Yeah," he echoed, "gonna do you so good..." Hips beginning to speed, Dean rose up on his elbows, watching Sam's face. "You're stunning... You know that...? Touch me everywhere!" he practically begged. The familiar patterns of his muscles working for this high kicked in: arms taking the weight of his torso, back hitching and stretching, ass bunching. Dean lowered his lips to Sam's; he hoped she wouldn't be icked out by her own taste. He loved to kiss, and to do it while making love, it was a piece of heaven. 

Sam's hands touched his sides, then more. Dean moaned into her mouth and thrust harder. Sweat gathered at his temples, the first droplet falling onto Sam's sharp cheekbone. The fingers exploring his body drove him crazy with lust. More than that, he felt full to bursting with the physical expression of the love he'd always carried like a talisman for Sam. "Go on, wrap those long legs around me..." 

In a sense, he could do this forever. In another, he was starting to feel the tingle in his lower back and in his balls that meant he was getting close. Deliberately, he slowed his pace a fraction. It had to be with Sam with him. Ignoring his libido's demand to _fuck, take, cum_ , Dean licked down the side of Sam's sinuous neck, nipping as he went, tongue following the line of her collarbone to the hollow of her throat, lapping there. "Tell me," he panted, "tell me... how... please!" It wasn't any lack of confidence that made him ask. Anything he could do to make her spin out of control, lose her mind with pleasure, he would. 

* * *

Dean asked to be touched, and Sam reacted immediately. How could he not have done this before, he wondered as his hands began to explore his brother's body. Dean's upper body was covering his, and Sam wasn't yet courageous enough to touch his butt, so he put his hands on Dean's flanks first. They were warm, ribs palpable under firm flesh and hot, sweaty skin.

When Dean's mouth closed in on his, Sam groaned and let himself fall into the kiss. Dean's tongue was plundering his mouth, and the memory of this mouth going down on him together with the sharp thrusts that filled him so incredibly brought him close to another release. Sam was totally surprised; he'd just cum only a minute ago, but there was no way he could hold back, even had he wanted to.

Sam met Dean's thrusts in counterpoint. He raised his hips and pushed back, then followed his lover's suggestion and wrapped his legs around Dean, drawing him in, his body inviting him deeper, shuddering with the onrush of the ultimate ecstasy brought to him by Dean, his beloved brother...

"I... I'll tell you," he gasped. "How... I... wanna... with you... Need you... to... Please, Dean!"

Sam's hands moved to Dean's butt, pulling at his cheeks, urging him to speed up.

"Almost... there... please... with me...?"

Sam threw his head back, clutching at Dean, his eyes wide and his body tightening up.

"Dean...!"

* * *

"Yes, oh god yes!!" Dean yelled. It was too much: Sam under him and working with him, Sam's legs wrapped around him, Sam's hands clutching his ass, his – her – body quivering around him, pulling him in. The wet grip of her, his laden balls smacking against her body... "Sam...!" She was writhing, and Dean could only hope she felt it to her core like he did, and that she was pleased with the heft of his cock and how he did it. He hitched up higher, leaning down for another urgent kiss before he lost it. 

There was no holding back. White flashes exploded before Dean's eyes, and his peak hit him like a brick wall. "Gonna cum, Sammy," he groaned, "...for you... With me... C'mon!" For a moment, he unleashed the power of his strength and thrust as fast and hard has he could, then Dean went stiff and still as his seed jetted out, filling the condom, buried as deep as he could go in his brother. "Rrrraaaahhrrrrr!!" he screeched. Tendons standing out in his neck, he ground down and down, as if he were trying to meld them together. 

It went on and on, and he emptied himself utterly. Dean collapsed onto Sam's chest, her breasts cradling his head. He knew tears were running from the outside corners of his eyes. He couldn't even breathe at first. "Sammy..." It came out shaky. 

* * *

"Dean! Oh god, Dean!" Sam's voice almost broke into a sob as his brother's sharp thrusts pushed him further toward the edge. "Yes, yes!" Dean kissed him again, hard, his tongue fucking Sam's mouth just as his dick was fucking Sam's – pussy. Sam couldn't have described the feeling deep down inside him, except that it was fucking fantastic and intense, and he knew he couldn't last another second.

Dean's moves were no longer coordinated but frantic, driven by pure, raw need. Suddenly, Sam felt the friction inside him increase. His own experience as a man told him that his brother was close, riding the edge, and most likely fighting to hold back. A shock wave flashed through Sam's body when Dean announced that he was gonna cum – _for him, Sam!_ And Dean wanted them to cum together!

If Sam would have needed encouragement, he could have cum alone from Dean's desire for them to hit the peak together. His body, however, didn't need another invitation. Dean thrust as hard and fast as he could, to the point where it began to hurt Sam, but the pain only kindled the urgency of his own release.

Dean stiffened and screeched, and Sam fell over the edge with him. His climax hit him so hard he couldn't breathe, nor move. Squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tension his body needed to rise higher, Sam bucked wildly. His cunt spasmed and clenched around Dean, gripping him tight, holding him inside him while they became one in their passion.

Time came to a standstill until, finally, Dean buckled and collapsed onto Sam, shaking. It took all of Sam's remaining strength to move his arms from his brother's butt and wrap them around the quivering shoulders. 

Was Dean crying? Sam felt turned inside out, physically as well as emotionally. Still, the way Dean rubbed his face against his chest made Sam's heart ache.

"I've got you, Dean," he crooned. "I love you and I'll never let go of you."

* * *

The higher the flight, Dean supposed, the harder the thud when you fell. He knew somehow that Sam had come a second time at his command, or because it was that good for him, too. In a woman's body, he could do that. Dean himself had had a few really amazing orgasms in his life, but not so just... locked in, as one, with the other person. To have it be over, it killed him. There was the loss, because it never should have happened. They would have to separate, and probably never do it again. 

So when Sam pulled role-reversal by soothing Dean and telling him all those things that had always been his to say to Sam, it was too much. He'd never been good at emotional aftermath. He hung on to Sam's lanky, yet more feminine body, burying his face in her neck till he stopped shaking. Now there was more salty wet on his face, but who was keeping track? 

At last, Dean cleared his throat. "'m alright, Sam. You?" He raised himself up onto his forearms again. Layed a soft kiss on Sam's lips. Shit. Condom. Had to deal with that. One hand down, a shift till he was expelled, stripping the sorry thin sheath off himself. Dean frowned. "Did I hurt you?" He swallowed. "Sam... You weren't...?" 

* * *

He'd never witnessed Dean like this before. His brother was a mess – and he let Sam see behind the walls. It felt strange. Dean was always the strong one, pretending to be fine even when he was on the verge of breaking down. Sam wasn't blind, and he'd often ached to help, but he also sensed that being comforted by Sam, whom Dean had sworn to protect and keep safe, would have made things even harder to his sibling. So he usually kept his mouth shut, refrained from a soothing touch or hug, and suffered in silence along with Dean. _Usually._

"That's it, let it out," Sam whispered. Maybe holding the distraught Dean shouldn't feel so nice, but he was convinced that letting the poison pour from his wounded soul would do his brother good. Sam rubbed Dean's back gently, putting all the love he felt into the touch. His other hand began to – card? Dean's hair was too short for that, but it was the only description that fit – his hair.

Eventually, Dean let out a shaky breath and Sam knew he was going to be okay. He loosened his hold so that Dean could rise up. Immediately, his brother confirmed that he was okay, and Sam believed him. Dean kissed him softly on the lips. Too exhausted to be aroused, Sam felt a surge of warmth and love run through him. 

Before he could tell Dean that he was fine, his brother reached between them to take care of the condom. Shit, Sam had forgotten all about that. There was an intense feeling of loss when Dean pulled out. Sam's first instinct was to cry out, tell Dean to stay in him – forever. But he knew that this couldn't happen; this was reality after all. He felt a hysterical giggle rising in his throat. Reality indeed! Sam had somehow turned into a woman, slept with his brother, and this was supposed to be real!

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden worry on Dean's face. "You didn't hurt me," Sam said, hoping that his brother could read the love shining from his eyes. "You were – are – fantastic." He kissed Dean's lips gently. 

"Dean, I can't think of anyone I'd have rather had to be my first. You made me... It was the most incredible thing I've ever known." He fixated his gaze on Dean's green and shiny eyes. "I love you. I always have," he confessed. 

Suddenly, the atmosphere appeared so heavy that he feared they might drown in it. Was this why his brother always made short work with every situation that might evolve into a 'chick flick moment?' Sam decided to lighten things a little.

"I knew you'd be good," he said with a smile. "But I couldn't have imagined just _how_ good. Dean," he yawned a little, "I swear I can't get it up for a while, but I can't wait for the next time you... we... _make love_."

* * *

To be comforted by Sam felt just... Weird. OK, kind of nice, too, but that was supposed to be Dean's job. Yet his brother was effective, so that when he assured Dean that he was no worse for the wear, Dean believed it. And he said that Dean was good, _fantastic, incredible_. The sincerity in his eyes was like a double shot of psychological Everclear. A little stroke to one's ego never hurt anything. Dean couldn't help a pleased smile, a genuine one, playing over his lips. Sam was still lying there on the rumpled covers, sweaty, long legs splayed, looking utterly fucked out. It was the expression on... her... face that knotted Dean's stomach. He'd held his brother at bay for so long, he wasn't ready for cards-on-the-table. Not like this. Normally he'd only spit out his true feelings if it was life or death. 

"Not bad yourself, Sammy." Dean took a breath, let it out. Although he regretted the need for space between them, he shifted over and sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. Nope, still too unsteady to stand. "You should know, I always get the job done. But yeah, it was awesome. It felt..." He shook himself. What the hell did Sam mean, 'always have loved you'? "It felt like love, yeah, I guess I'm saying." He snorted. "So are we done with the Hallmark greeting card moment or what?" Letting his eyes run up Sam's torso, focusing on her breasts, Dean managed, "Oh again, huh? Well aren't you insatiable? But I don't think you're going to get it up at all, like this, Sam." He let a hand reach out to slide up her inner thigh, fluffing the damp hairs at the juncture and touching the inner slickness for one second, before withdrawing.

Meeting the half-lidded hazel eyes was almost painful, but on the other hand it reminded Dean that they had a lot of research ahead of them, which was usually Sam's department. He stood and stretched. "I'm gonna hit the head. Shower. Then we get some food and figure out how to switch you back." Aware of his nudity, the smell of recent sex emanating from him, and the fact that he couldn't to seem to stop staring at the naked woman in the bed for more than ten seconds, Dean added, "Unless you mean to stay like this." 

* * *

Now that Dean had said it, Sam wondered. If he stayed in a woman's body, it would still be awkward for him and Dean to be a couple because they were still siblings. On the other hand, nobody except the two of them needed to know...

This wasn't a good time for thinking, he decided. Dean was right, they needed food, and then some research was on the agenda. Oh, and cleaning up, of course. Yawning, Sam closed his eyes. 

With Dean in the shower, his mind returned to earlier. His brother had appeared extremely vulnerable in his post-orgasmic haze. Then, only a minute later, Dean had been all manly again, trying to pull of the 'bit-of-rough', but not quite managing. They needed to talk. Sam winced. Dean wasn't going to enjoy it. Then again... Grinning, Sam told himself that they wouldn't be able to keep their hands off each other, so there were going to be lots of opportunities for mellow Dean after sex. Sam was already looking forward to their next love-making.

Right now, he wouldn't be up to anything, though. He was knackered. Waking up in the middle of the night to discover he'd undergone a sex change followed by the best sex he could ever imagine, had made the time fly. It was already morning and he hadn't slept enough. The sounds made by the shower spray were soothing, and his thoughts began to drift...

_"Hi, Sam." The trickster stood at the foot end of the bed with a smirk on his face. "Thanks for the great show."_

"You..." Sam could only stammer. "You... you've been watching??"

"Of course. This was better than TV."

"Son of a..."

"Tsk, tsk, Sammy. You didn't like it? Why, you should have said something earlier." 

The trickster made a gesture with his hand, and suddenly, Sam felt very tired. 

"No, wait," he tried to speak, but everything grew heavy and he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer...

"SAM!"

Sam's eyes flew open. Why was Dean looking at him like that?

* * *

The light was indeed burned out in the bathroom. Dean didn't need it to shower, though; he left the door open a little, early-morning light filtering in. What had happened between him and Sam had taken some time, then. He'd lost his internal clock between the shock and the lust. Stepping into the shower spray, Dean soaped the crust and scent of sex from his skin. His body was still tingling, a slight quiver in his thighs and belly. He just wanted to be clean. 

Some time later, finished, Dean turned off the water and dried off in the dim, steamy room. Muted voices drifted in from somewhere, vaguely familiar. He slung the towel around his waist and walked out into the cooler other room. Maybe he'd get lucky and Sam would be asleep. His brother was still in the bed, on his back, sheet draped across him... _him!!_ "Sam! What the hell?!"

As if it wasn't enough of a mind-fuck for Sam to turn into a girl, now he was back in his normal – male – body. Did he remember anything... What they had done? Oh, god, now what? Dean backed away till his shins hit the other bed and he abruptly sat. He tried to grasp at the spinning straws of lore in his head, tried to find an explanation. "You're you again. How??" he demanded.

* * *

_"Sam! What the hell?!"_

Sam jerked awake at the sound of Dean's voice, frowning at the question that followed. He was him again? Huh?

Dean was sitting on the other bed with an expression on his face that Sam had never seen before. 'Weirded out' was the only way he could describe it. 

What had he, Sam, done wrong this time? His head wasn't throbbing, neither was he feeling nauseous, and he couldn't remember getting drunk. A quick mental inventory of his body revealed that he probably wasn't injured; nothing hurt – except a mild soreness in his groin. _And the room reeked of sex._

Sam's eyes widened as the memory of his dream returned – he'd cum off in his sleep, twice, from his brother making love to his _female_ body. He vaguely remembered himself screaming in ecstasy. No wonder Dean was pissed off! 

A light sleeper, Dean always complained about Sam waking him up when he went to the bathroom or whatever. Dean also kept teasing him about making 'happy noises' in his sleep – the teasing turning a little sour if Dean hadn't gotten laid in a while, which was the case right now. Being woken up from Sam's ecstatic screams... it would be best to get as far away from Dean as possible for a while. 

Sam sat up, wondering how to make it to the bathroom without displaying the mess his groin probably was. Shit, the memory of him and Dean having sex had already made him half hard again. Then, there was the fact that his brother had only a towel slung around his slender hips, and his nipples were stiff with the early morning chill in the room...

Swallowing hard, Sam forced himself to cast his eyes down. He wiggled out of bed on the side close to the bathroom, away from Dean, for once glad that Dean always chose the bed next to the entrance. Because of the broken light, he had to leave the door ajar, breathing a relieved sigh when he stepped into the shower.

While the tepid spray – of course, Dean had used up the hot water – rinsed off all traces from his dream, Sam calmed down a little. So he had had an erotic dream about his brother. The only difference to his equally erotic daydreams was that in this one Sam had been a woman. Okay, that was weird, but otherwise, nothing much had changed. Dean was pissed off, but that happened frequently, too. Sam would have to suffer a certain amount of ribbing about his insatiable libido, or whatever, but that would be it.

The other part of his dream where Dean had let his emotional shields down, had wept in his brother's embrace, was wishful thinking, of course. Sighing again, Sam told himself that as good as it would be for Dean to open up from time to time, it would never happen. Some things were not to be.

Sam towelled himself dry and put on a shirt and boxer-briefs, glad that they'd dried overnight. Ready to face his brother, he stepped toward the door when an item in the waste bucket caught his eye. It had been empty the day before, so how had the used condom got there? Dean had taken a shower, but the door had been open and Sam knew his sounds when he beat off. Also, why would he use a condom with himself... Unless...

_Hell, no!_

Sam's face was white when he opened the door to their room.

"Dean? We need to talk..."

* * *

While Sam escaped into the bathroom and a shower, Dean dressed as hurriedly as he could manage with his still-langourous limbs. What had he done?? Sleeping with an available, willing female was one thing. The flash of nude Sam, his brother, wholly male again, and wanting him with the same intensity... Dean shook his head. Despite their history, he'd never been able to get over the guilt of having turned Sam, made him into what Dean himself was: brother-lover. That didn't mean he had to give in to it. Again. He shoved his twitching cock into his jeans and zipped up emphatically.

Well, two things were to be said: For now, they could skip the days of research on Sam's 'condition', and they could get the hell out of here. Hell, Dean was more than willing to file this away in a shadowed compartment in his brain and never mention it again. There wasn't much to pack up but he busied his hands with it anyway. 

He did miss Sam's rack. How did his hard-pectoral'ed sibling get such nice soft, round, but firm tits, with perfect-for-a-girl dusky nipples... Shut up, Dean! Unwelcome but irreversible imagery before his mind's eye replayed every nuance. He sat on the bed they'd shared. Dean's face felt flaming hot as he recalled how they'd both screamed in pleasure and love, and he'd collapsed shaking, _crying_... As if years of turmoil was absolved. Only... It wasn't. Dean didn't like it, that he'd shown such weakness. Sure, only to Sam. More and more, it seemed like a dream. 

Now he felt the weight of it more than ever. His responsibility, mission, work. His love. 

Sam strode, hair wet and half-dressed, out of the bathroom shortly afterwards. Of course, he was demanding they talk. Of course. Just great. Dean set his jaw. "No. Just... No. Not going there, Sam." 

* * *

Sam shook his head, muttering at himself, "Of course not." What had he expected? Dream-Dean meeting him in reality? Sam still wasn't sure what had happened. The trickster had messed with them, but had he really spent the night making love with Dean? Or had it just been a dream and the trickster had planted the condom? Dean's reaction led him to believe that it had been real. Or the trickster had sent his brother the same dream. Or...

Whatever had happened, it was clear to Sam from the set jaw on Dean's face that there wouldn't be a discussion. Not now, not ever, if he knew his brother right.

"Okay," he said quietly, pretending that this was just another morning. He slid into his jeans and yesterday's – or better, the whole of last week's – shirt, and wrinkled his nose. They'd have to do more laundry soon. 

"What about breakfast? On the road? Got any projects mapped out yet? Come on, man, let's go. I'm starving..."

Sam's heart was breaking, but nobody would notice. He'd learned to hide his feelings from the best: the brother he loved.

* * *

What, no bitching? That was too easy, Dean's gut told him. Sam was rattling on about plans, pulling on his jeans, as if nothing had happened. 

So, it would be like that, then. Good. Dean tossed the Impala's keys at his brother, slid his shades over his eyes, and grunted, "Just drive."

* * *

Sam caught the keys and managed to keep a straight face. Dean asking him to drive his baby... something was definitely off. Unfortunately, his sibling's behavior didn't give him a clue as to what had really happened between the two of them.

Well, Sam wasn't going to look a gift horse – or a gift car in this case – in the mouth. He knew he was going to catch Dean off guard eventually. Until then, he might as well make the best out of it.

Suddenly, he smiled to himself.

Dean let him handle the Impala.

Man or woman, his brother did love him, after all.


End file.
